


turn the lights off, get a little braver now

by strawhatmikans



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, M/M, Trainee Life, and felix's fave song a little braver, i love felix a lot, inspired by dance team vlive, minor platonic chanlix, soft hyunlix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawhatmikans/pseuds/strawhatmikans
Summary: “Don’t go,” Hyunjin mumbles into Felix’s hair. “Just sleepover.”Hyunjin’s voice is a breath away from the curve of his ear. Felix laughs, nervous. “Maybe next time, Jinnie.”or: Felix gets a little braver. Hyunjin helps.[Tiếng Việt] translation





	turn the lights off, get a little braver now

**Author's Note:**

> hyunjin said that they all used to dance with the lights off on the fourth floor and i couldn't stop thinking about it so i listened to a little braver (felix's favorite song!!) and wrote a shitty fic 
> 
> listen to a little braver!! i cried

**_— 0._**

 

 

 

Felix is still trying to catch his breath, leaning against the fogged mirrors of the studio, when a voice says, “Hey, Felix, right?” It’s another trainee, the tallest one in the room with the pretty face and muscle tee and sharp moves. The boy doesn’t wait for a reply before he sits down cross-legged in front of Felix and leans back on the heels of his hands, tilting his head curiously. His shirt sticks to his skin.

 

Felix nods. His mum had told him it wouldn’t matter that he couldn’t speak Korean as long as he was friendly, so he tilts his mouth up into his friendliest smile. He’s too tired to think about sentence structure and pronunciation.

 

“I’m Hyunjin,” the other trainee says, and returns Felix’s smile. It’s one of the nicest smiles Felix has ever seen, Hyunjin's eyes curve into crescent moons and his entire face crinkles. He smiles the way people laugh at jokes they didn’t expect to be funny—unchecked and genuine. It’s disarming. “You’re not from here?”

 

Felix blinks in surprise. Was it that obvious?

 

“Your name,” Hyunjin explains. Lifting off of his hands and leaning closer, he adds with an amused smirk, “and when the teacher said go right you looked confused and went left.” The words aren’t unkind, rather Hyunjin says them like they’re some kind of inside joke.

 

Felix flushes and prays that it just looks like he’s red from dance practice. He forces the language cogs in his brain to turn. “I’m from Australia,” he says. “My Korean isn’t very good.” The words sound fine ** _—_** rehearsed, maybe ** _—_** but fine. He relaxes.

 

The crinkly, full-face grin returns, somehow wider than before. “You can speak English with me!”

 

It’s the first time Felix has heard English in two days. He laughs, half disbelieving and half relieved, and his lungs fill with air for the first time that day.  

 

“And him,” Hyunjin continues, pointing at a boy sitting across the room. “There’s someone else from Australia, too. He’s not here right now, but I’ll introduce you to everyone later!”

 

It’s the first time since getting on the plane in Sydney that Felix truly believes he’s going to be okay.

 

 

 

_**_—_ ** **1 week.** _

 

 

 

Practice doesn’t get any less hard than the first day. Felix has never had any professional dance training before, and it’s embarrassing to be the only one in the room who doesn’t know the basics. The other trainees are good dancers ** _—_** trained dancers. They all seem so confident and comfortable in these studios, and Felix feels a bit like an intruder. He doesn’t know these walls, doesn’t know what these floors sound like under his favorite pair of shoes. The teacher sometimes talks too fast and he has to guess at what she’s saying.

 

But Hyunjin keeps catching his eyes in the mirror and doing that disarming thing where he smiles with his whole face. Felix smiles back a little less tentatively every day, and each time, the doubt quiets down a little. Just a little braver. He can do this.

 

 

 

**_— 2 weeks._ **

 

 

 

He can’t get the basic moves right. The angles are all wrong, his lines are awkward and ugly, and he can’t seem to make the sequence look effortless and fluid the way all the other trainees do.

 

Felix kind of just wants to sit down, put his head between his knees, and cry until he’s hollow. He kind of just wants to go home. He wants to dance without worrying about basics and techniques and all that shit he _knows_ is important but can’t _do_.

 

He wants to scream and maybe even quit, but Hyunjin’s here. Hyunjin’s here, an hour after practice schedules and smile somehow still bright and easy even though Felix is in the worst mood and can’t do anything right. Hyunjin’s here, going through every basic move with him count by count and being endlessly patient even though Felix didn’t ask him to.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hyunjin says as they finally leave the studio and Felix tries to thank him. Every part of Felix’s body aches but his heart is a little less heavy. “We’re all running towards the same thing, right?”

 

 

 

**_— 3 weeks._ **

 

 

 

Hyunjin finds him in one of the practice rooms late one afternoon. “Come with me,” he whispers, sticking his head through the doorway. There’s something childish and conspiratorial in his grin.

 

“What? Why?” Felix asks, but he’s already grinning back and putting down his sheet music.

 

“Remember I said I’ll introduce you to everyone else?”

 

Felix pauses, suddenly distinctly aware of his ridiculous hair and mismatched training clothes. So far he’s only properly met Chan, the other Australian, and a few other trainees. “Now?”

 

“Why not?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “It’s okay, everyone always looks like—” he gestures vaguely at Felix “—that.”

  
Felix raises an eyebrow back.

 

“A mess,” Hyunjin clarifies, then laughs at his own joke.

 

Felix rolls his eyes and futilely combs a hand through his hair a few times before stepping out into hallway. “ _You_ don’t,” he mutters. Hyunjin looks good as always, all one-eighty centimeters of him right out of a magazine spread. He’s wearing yet another muscle tank, which ** _—_** Felix won’t lie ** _—_** is all kinds of distracting.

 

Hyunjin blinks, ears turning pink. “Um,” he says. “This way.” Then he turns away and walks down the hallway a little faster than necessary.

 

Huh. Felix hadn’t expected that. _Cute._ His lips twitch as he follows Hyunjin down the hall, jogging a little to catch up. “Where are we going?”

 

“Fourth floor,” Hyunjin replies, turning the corner to the elevators.

 

“What’s on the fourth floor?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

Felix doesn’t get what there is to be so cryptic about, but he follows Hyunjin into the elevator without protest anyway because hey, he hasn’t been led astray so far.

 

The fourth floor looks just like every other floor, but when Hyunjin opens a door a hall down from the elevators and pulls Felix inside after him by the hand, Felix is greeted with the biggest studio he’s ever seen. And it’s full of trainees sitting on the floor and on each other, talking and laughing. Some are stretching.

 

“They’re here!” Someone calls out.

 

Three seconds later, the lights go out, music starts playing, and several people yell at the same time: “DANCE BATTLE!”

 

Immediately, people start whooping, and everything except for Hyunjin’s hand, still clasped around Felix’s own, disappears into darkness and noise. Hyunjin’s laughing in his ear and pulling him somewhere. Felix, dizzy with it all and unable to think over the pounding music and general confusion, stumbles along.

 

“Come on, Felix,” Hyunjin giggles, warm and happy and thrumming with excitement. “Freestyle!”

 

They dance for hours in the darkened studio, sneakers squeaking against the floor and laughter almost as loud as the music. Everyone sings along to the songs even when they don’t know the lyrics. They form a loose circle, and a girl Felix may have seen around before ** _—_** it’s too dark to tell ** _—_** pops and locks in the middle. Lee Minho follows with the funniest moves he knows, and Felix finds himself laughing so hard he sways into Hyunjin’s side. A boy who can’t be any older than thirteen freestyles until his snapback flies off. Then Hyunjin’s shoving Felix into the middle, crinkly smile only faintly visible in dark, and Felix is pulling Hyunjin after him. Everyone hollers, chanting their names. Hyunjin is laughing and Felix hasn’t danced like this since leaving Sydney. Finally, his body moves the way it wants to ** _—_** there’s no second guessing, no doubt, no rough translations. _This_ feeling is what he loves, what he’s been chasing since he was eight and dancing alone in his room after school.

 

Later, Hyunjin explains to him that it’s just something the trainees do sometimes, a kind of company secret tradition or something to turn off all the lights and dance on the fourth floor. It’s silly, kind of weird, but ** _—_**

 

“We’d all go crazy otherwise. Suffocate in this tragic building, and probably kill each other in the process,” Hyunjin jokes, except it doesn’t sound much like a joke because the edges of his smile are jaded and weary.

 

Hyunjin looks less than his usual towering presence like this, wrapped up in a thick winter coat and the big glass JYP building behind him. They grin at each other in the half-dark of Seoul at 11pm and say goodbye, still giddy and electric from the dance battle.

 

The night always makes Felix feel awfully young. He wraps his scarf tighter around his neck and walks faster.

 

 

 

**_— 2 months._ **

 

 

 

Felix is about return to the dorms one day when Hyunjin catches him on his way out of the building. One hand loosely fisted in the sleeve of Felix’s hoodie, Hyunjin pauses to catch his breath. “Oh my god Felix, check your phone for once in your life please,” he snaps.

 

Felix smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. You were looking for me?”

 

Hyunjin straightens and fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Uh, yeah. Do you..” His eyes flicker away to somewhere around Felix’s left ear. “...want to come over? To my home, I mean.”

 

Felix stares. He hasn’t been to anyone’s home since leaving Australia. He likes his dorm, but real _homes_ have a sense of permanence. They’re places thick with roots. He must stare in silence for too long, because Hyunjin barrels on. “Not just you, of course. Everyone’s coming.”

 

“Oka—”

 

“Chan’s coming too. That’s good, right? We can play video games, if you want—”

 

“Hyunji—”

 

“—or watch movies. I have movies! And you can meet my dog, Kami, she’s amazing. She’s so cute, I promise—”

 

“Hyunjin!”

 

“—what?”

 

Felix bites his lip and tries not to laugh. “I’ll come.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, really. Where’s everyone else?”

 

Hyunjin finally lets go of Felix’s hoodie to scratch his neck awkwardly. “Chan’s getting everyone else. Do you want to come to the store with me to get snacks? We can meet him there.”

 

Felix grins. “Only if we can get the giant pack of korepab fish crackers."

 

 

 

“Just because they don’t have the big pack doesn’t mean you have to buy fifteen small bags ** _—_** ”

 

“Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand Korean,” Felix sniffs.

 

Hyunjin sighs. He doesn’t even know how Felix is carrying all fifteen bags of korepab in his arms. In English, he says, “I said you’re dumb.”

 

Felix tries to shove him, but Hyunjin happens to be bigger and less scrawny, and all Felix ends up accomplishing is dropping half his bags of korepab on the floor. Hyunjin laughs so hard that he drops his own armful of ramen packets and honey butter chips.

 

The storekeeper glares at them as they dissolve into hysterics and clumsily try to pick up all the snacks from the floor. Felix doesn’t even know what’s so funny, but he laughs until his cheeks hurt and the two of them end up dropping more bags of food onto the floor than they pick up.

 

That’s how Chan and the others find them, clutching each other in aisle four, giddy with laughter and surrounded by snacks.

 

 

 

They file into Hyunjin’s apartment rowdily, Seungmin latched onto Jeongin and Jisung singing loudly about how hungry he is (Changbin’s doing the adlibs). It’s strange, how normal it feels to laugh along with everyone else, to slide off his shoes and put them between Chan’s and Seungmin’s, the three shoes the beginning of a sneaker pile because everyone’s too lazy to make a neat row and Hyunjin can’t be bothered to care.

 

 

 

Felix had learned that Hyunjin was a very tactile person in just the first week. Hyunjin always had a hand on a knee or an arm slung around a shoulder or looped around a waist, like a constant reminder that he’s paying attention. Or a reminder to pay attention to _him_ , as if he isn’t always the most distracting thing in any room.

 

Tonight is no different: After they get through way too many ramen packets than is probably healthy for a group of teenage boys, Hyunjin’s hand is a gentle pressure on Felix’s waist as he guides him to the living room. He slings his arms over Felix’s shoulders and rests his chin on top of his head, occasionally cheering and joining in the trash talk, as Felix races Jisung in Mario Kart. Later, his fingers tap out a beat on Felix’s shoulders as he watches him, crouched in front of Hyunjin’s laptop, choose a movie. He absentmindedly brushes a thumb back and forth across the back of his neck as Felix and the others argue over _Zootopia_ or _Moana. (_ Felix has to suppress a shiver and try his best to focus on what Chan’s saying.)

 

Then, when they finally decide on _Zootopia_ and pile up on the couch and on the blankets in front of it, Hyunjin squeezes all one-hundred-eighty centimeters of his body between Felix and the armrest. His socked feet are pressed against Felix’s calves, his elbows digging into his side, his hair brushing his cheek. An hour into the movie, Hyunjin lets out a big yawn, shifts, and the elbow in Felix’s ribs disappears. Instead, Hyunjin drapes an arm over Felix’s waist and tucks his face into the curve of his neck. Felix can feel his breath warm on his collarbone. Hyunjin yawns again and, apparently forgetting that he has almost ten centimeters on Felix, tries to curl further into him.

 

Felix knew that Hyunjin liked touch, but this. This is new. He’s entirely unprepared for how _cuddly_ Hyunjin is. They’re tangled together on the couch, ankles knocking, and it’s like the sleepier Hyunjin becomes the clingier he gets. Maybe it’s the bone-deep exhaustion from a full day of training, the drowsiness that settles over them all like a thick blanket.

 

Soon, Jeongin is fast asleep on Felix’s other side, at least three other people are dozing off, and _Zootopia_ ’s end credits are rolling on the TV screen. “Is the movie over?” Hyunjin murmurs, voice thick with sleep. His lips ghost over Felix’s pulse. Felix swallows. He can’t tell if Hyunjin’s doing it in purpose.

 

“Yeah,” Felix breathes, not daring to move.

 

Chan looks up at Felix from where he’s curled up on the floor. His eyes flick to Hyunjin, to the arm around Felix’s waist, then back to Felix. Chan raises an eyebrow but thankfully doesn’t say anything. Instead, he tilts his head towards the door and mouths, _we should head back now._

 

Felix nods, and nudges Hyunjin gently with his elbow. “Hyunjinnie, we have to go now. It’s late.”

Hyunjin hums into his neck and doesn’t let go.

 

“Come on, you’re going to have to let me get up,” he tries again, voice low and soft because he doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful, drowsy air in the room.

 

Hyunjin finally shifts, arm not leaving Felix’s waist, but he sits up to hover over Felix’s face. Hyunjin’s hair is sticking up on one side and his eyes are still half-closed. He’s so close, too close, and Felix doesn’t know what to do with himself. The mole under Hyunjin’s left eye is really cute. It’s also centimeters away. “Unfair, why’s your voice so deep?” Hyunjin mumbles through a yawn, and his breath is warm on Felix’s cheek.

 

Somewhere over the surprised stuttering of his pulse, Felix hears a snort (it sounds like Chan). It’s probably too dark in the room for Hyunjin to see the flush on Felix’s cheeks, but it’s so quiet that Felix is half-sure Hyunjin can hear his heart stumbling in his ribcage. “Uh,” Felix manages, suddenly hyper conscious of how low the sound is.

 

Hyunjin doesn’t wait for him to answer. He untangles himself from Felix and unfolds off of the couch, stretching out like a particularly big and lazy cat. His shirt rides up and a hipbone peeks out above the waistband of his sweatpants. When Felix, a little unsteady, stands up too, Hyunjin’s hand immediately finds its way back to Felix, fingers hooking themselves in his hoodie pocket.

 

Soon, everyone’s shaken awake and gathered by the door of Hyunjin’s apartment, and Hyunjin’s giving each of them a hug goodbye. Hyunjin drapes himself over Felix last, tugging him so close Felix’s feet, sneakers still untied, are bracketed by Hyunjin’s socked ones.

 

“Thanks for having me over,” Felix says, because his mother taught him to be polite. Because he hasn’t had this much fun since the last time he hung out with his friends in Sydney.

 

“Don’t go,” Hyunjin mumbles into Felix’s hair. “Just sleepover.”

 

Hyunjin’s voice is a breath away from the curve of his ear. Felix laughs, nervous. “Maybe next time, Jinnie.”

 

“Okay.” Hyunjin finally releases Felix, but it’s like removing gum from a table. Eventually, Felix is fully extracted from Hyunjin’s sleepy grasp and being ushered out the door by a bemused-looking Chan.

 

Because Felix is weak, he looks back over his shoulder as he leaves. Hyunjin’s waving, everything soft edges in the dim hallway lighting. He’s all boneless long limbs and languid pliability like this, filter gone, clothes and hair and smile sleep-rumpled. Hyunjin is punch-drunk with sleep and Felix is punch-drunk on touch, on Hyunjin’s smell stuck on his clothes, on Hyunjin grinning sleepily at them from the doorway.

 

 

 

_[ 12:54 AM, moonlight slipping through the cracks in the blinds ]_

 

“So, what’s up with Hyunjinnie and you?”

 

“Shut up, Christopher.”

 

 

 

_[ 1:02 AM, someone tossing and turning ]_

 

“Hyung, do you think Hyunjin ** _—_** ” What, _likes boys? Likes me?_ Felix snaps his mouth shut. _Stupid, stupid._

 

“Do I think Hyunjin what?”  There's no answer. “Felix?”

 

“Nevermind.”

 

 

 

_[ 1:05 AM, quiet enough to hear the clock in the hallway ticking ]_

 

“Felix?”

 

The name shivers in the quiet room, tentative, gently prodding, _tell me what you’re thinking_ and _I’m here for you_ , but only silence follows. Chan figures Felix has fallen asleep so he lets himself doze off too, wondering what Felix might’ve wanted to ask about Hyunjin. Something almost falls into place as he slips into sleep, but he doesn’t remember it in the morning.

 

 

 

**_— -2 years._ **

 

 

 

Felix kisses a boy for the first time when he’s fourteen.

 

It happens on a humid summer night in Sydney. It’s summer holiday and Felix is young and carefree and all he knows is that he wants to dance for a long, long time. Zach is one year older and tall, gangly teenage frame just beginning to fill out. He has the kind of smile that can make Felix forget words on the tip of his tongue. They are friends, kind of. Meaning: they dance together in empty classrooms for hours after school but Felix can’t tell you what Zach’s favorite color is (red, maybe? He seems to wear a lot of red).

 

9:30 pm, Felix sneaks out of his house. He doesn’t need to, probably ** _—_** his mother wouldn’t be too happy, but trusts him enough ** _—_** but it feels like an obligatory rite of passage to carefully side-step all the squeaky floorboards and turn the doorknob by half-degrees. It feeds the adrenaline in his veins.

 

9:40 pm, he’s under Zach’s bedroom window and Zach is climbing out, lowering himself down with the branches of a tree. They’ve known each other for months now (they meet at their school’s dance showcase) but Felix is still a little starstruck by this older boy with years of real dance training and the prettiest, cleanest lines even when all he’s doing is climbing out of his bedroom window like the star of some American high school movie.

 

9:50 pm, they’re almost at the park and laughing about something stupid. Their shoulders knock together every few steps and the mini speakers dangling from Felix’s hand keep bouncing against the side of his thigh.

 

10 pm until whenever they feel like going back, they dance in the empty playground lot. It’s mostly dark, the faint, ghostly white glow of the park lamps casting just enough light for Felix to make out hopscotch squares scrawled in chalk on the ground. They have mini speakers but they always keep the music so low that when a distant car honks, they lose the beat for a second. It’s okay, they’re always counting in their heads. It’s part of the fun of it all, like the way their grins catch each other’s every so often and the way their only sense of time is the number of songs they dance to.

 

They dance almost every night that summer holiday. It’s good—really good.

 

One night, sometime in week two, Zach walks Felix backwards until his back hits the chain link fence. It’s some time between eleven and one am and they’re high on dance and stupid teenage rebellion and each other. Felix’s whole body is buzzing from freestyling, his heart beating too fast ** _—_** a little like it’s trying to sprint right out of his chest but mostly like it’s trying to make everything else in his body beat in time with it. The sweat on his skin cools quickly in the night chill. When Zach tilts his chin up with gentle fingers under his jaw and kisses him, it’s so simple, so obvious, so easy for Felix to press back.

 

Felix isn’t in the habit of lying to himself. He doesn’t see the point in denying himself things he can have, and he can have this—summer nights in the dark when only the moon and ghostly park lamps are watching and the world narrows down to dance and Zach.

 

That summer, Felix learns what it feels like to dance freely, to dance until every muscle aches. He learns how to kiss another boy until he’s breathless and flushed down to his collarbones, how to chase someone’s pulse in a winding path around their neck to behind their ear. He learns that Zach’s favorite color is white, not red.

 

Zach moves out of New South Wales when school starts. They don’t promise to stay in touch, but this is not a sad story. Felix doesn’t mind letting this dreamlike, dizzy escape of a summer end and recede into memory, where no one can touch it. Where it feels a little more unreal with each day that passes but will always remain stainless, a few short, bright weeks of unadulterated happiness preserved in the past.

 

 

 

**_— 3 months._ **

 

 

 

Suddenly, it’s like the first few days all over again. Felix doesn’t know why but one day he wakes up and his chest feels unbearably hollow, filled with stale air and the shadows of everything he’s left behind oceans away. Chan hugs him tight in the kitchen and doesn’t let ago until he feels Felix’s heartbeat slow and steady against his own chest.

 

Felix wakes up the next day and it’s the same. His brain is rejecting Korean like it hasn’t in months, and he’s so distracted and jittery in classes that the dance teacher gently kicks him out of the studio and tells him to take a walk around the building until he can focus again.

 

It’s homesickness and pressure and there are whispers of a new group this year and ** _—_**

 

Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s stupidly distracting with his muscle tees and wandering hands and easy, eye-crinkling, face-scrunching smiles. Felix feels kind of like that “disappointed, but not surprised” meme, at himself. He’s had enough fleeting, head-spinning crushes to know that he falls hard and fast. His heart is unreliable and an idiot and would totally get into a stranger’s car without even blinking if the stranger offered it a lollipop.

 

He tells himself that it’s probably just because Hyunjin’s tall, dances, and has an addictive smile. Felix was weak for those things when he was fourteen, he’s still weak for them now and most likely will be for the rest of his life.

 

(He can hear Chan’s voice in his head: “So... what you’re saying is, ‘ _I don’t like him, he’s just tall_.’” Shut up, Christopher.)

 

It’s stupid, it really is, but right now it’s another thing cluttering Felix’s disaster of a headspace. Monthly evaluations roll around and it’s been _days_ but it’s like a hurricane sweeps through his body every night, knocks everything out of place, and leaves him hollowed and rattling day after day.

 

It’s monthly evaluations today, and when Felix tries to go through the motions of the basic moves in an effort to center himself, his limbs won’t listen. He can’t even ** _—_** these are the _basics_ , the ones he struggled with and then _mastered_ months ago.

 

Shit. Felix has to forcibly shove the rising nausea down.

 

 

 

The trainees are gathered in a studio, everyone tense and running through their routines or compulsively warming up their voices. The teacher walks in, and everyone scrambles to bow and greet her. His voice shakes. Felix feels fear wind its way around his throat, constrict his chest, and weigh down his limbs. There’s everything to lose and fuck, Felix wants this way too much. He feels like he might burst with how badly he wants to _stay._

 

That thought is so unexpected and new that Felix snaps out of it for a moment. But it’s not enough, he never is. When it’s finally his turn, panic settles like ice in his veins. He’s not ready and he knows it.

 

Hyunjin catches his eyes in the mirror and smiles with his whole face. Felix barely even registers it.

 

 

 

Thirty seconds into his performance, the teacher stops the music and eyes Felix. The silence grows, and the waiting trainees shift awkwardly, clothes rustling. Felix keeps his eyes trained on the ground. She finally breaks the silence. “You got into this company for your dancing?”

 

“Yes, teacher Choi.”

 

She heaves a deep sigh, shakes her head, then motions for the next trainee to go. Felix sits back down, tucking his knees to his chest and trying to ignore the pressure building up behind his eyes. She didn’t even give him any feedback, like he’s beyond help. He can feel Hyunjin staring at him from across the room, but the last thing he wants right now is to see the pity in others’ eyes. Especially Hyunjin’s. Felix keeps his head down for the rest of the evaluations and lets his fringe hide his face.

 

But as soon as the teacher walks out of the room, Hyunjin has Felix’s hands entangled in his own. His hands are warm and easily dwarf Felix’s. “I want to get out of here,” Felix murmurs, voice wet.

 

“Okay. Okay, we can do that,” Hyunjin soothes, thumbs stroking the back of Felix’s hands. He helps him stand up, and keeps a hand locked with his as Felix rises unsteadily to his feet.

 

The other trainees have already vacated the room, except for a group of four who probably have practice in this studio now. They’re fiddling with the speaker in the corner of the room and awkwardly trying give Felix and Hyunjin space.

 

Hyunjin leads Felix out of the room and into the bathroom down the hall. “Okay? Better?” Hyunjin asks softly, as if he doesn’t know that Felix had meant so much more than just the evaluation room when he’d said he wanted to get out.

 

Hyunjin’s thumb is a gentle touch under Felix’s eye, brushing away the few tears that spill out despite Felix’s best effort to keep them from falling.

 

Felix just nods, because he knows if he tries to say anything the dam will break and he’s going to be an ugly sobbing mess and worse, he won’t be able to shut up. Hyunjin doesn’t need to hear about his stupid problems and even stupider crush.

 

Hyunjin searches his face for a few moments because he’s Hyunjin and he knows there’s more to all this than Felix is willing to tell. Felix doesn’t know what Hyunjin finds, but something like a decision dawns on his face and then Hyunjin pulls Felix into his arms.

 

In the end, Felix becomes an ugly sobbing mess anyway, but he does it with his face tucked into Hyunjin’s chest and Hyunjin’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist. It doesn’t make everything okay but it reminds Felix that he could be.

 

“Felix, baby,” Hyunjin murmurs into his hair. He’s clutching onto Felix’s sweater like he needs this contact too, like he’s the one holding on. It makes Felix’s heart hurt. “I know you miss home. I know this is really hard.”

 

Felix nods, cheek still pressed against Hyunjin’s chest, and sniffles. It’s an ugly sound, too loud and too sad in this tiny three-stall bathroom in a building made of stars.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispers, because what else can he say?

 

 

 

Hyunjin stays until he’s almost ten minutes late for his vocal lesson. “You’re going to be okay?” he asks, while reaching for another tissue for Felix. His other hand taps an anxious beat on the inside of Felix’s wrist.

 

Maybe. He’s going to have to be. But Felix sees the indecision on Hyunjin’s face. “I’m fine,” he says as confidently as he can. He puts on what he hopes is a convincing smile and gives Hyunjin a gentle nudge on the shoulder in the direction of the door. “Go, I’m okay.”

 

Hyunjin leaves reluctantly, with another tight, lingering hug and a promise to find him later.

 

 

 

When Hyunjin finds him after his vocal class, Felix is dancing himself to death in an empty studio. The mirrors are foggy to the point where Hyunjin can tell Felix hasn’t even paused once to wipe them down, and he watches Felix drill his evaluation performance for all of thirty seconds before he pulls the speaker cord out of the wall.

 

Felix stops and glares. If he wasn’t trying to catch his breath, he would probably say something mean and barbed and horrible, but he doesn’t need to because the tension in the room can already be cut with knife.

 

“This isn’t helping,” Hyunjin says, and he sounds so plainly _sad_ that almost all the anger and frustration drains out of Felix in an instant.

 

Because he knows. He knows none of the past hour has made him any better. In fact, he’s gotten worse. He’s constantly one beat faster and his lines are getting sloppier and he’s even starting to miss moves. But Felix is panicked and scared and he doesn’t know how to fix any of this.

 

Felix sinks onto the floor and screams in frustration. Hyunjin startles, dopping the speaker cord.

 

“Sorry,” Felix says, voice muffled by the floor. “If I didn’t scream I might’ve exploded.”

 

“Oh. That’s... we don’t want that.”

 

“Maybe we do, actually,” Felix mutters. He hears Hyunjin settle down next to him and feels a gentle flick on the back of his head.

 

“We don’t,” Hyunjin says firmly. “Come on, we’re going to make this better.”

 

“I know how, I need to punch something.” Felix contributes helpfully. “Really hard.”

 

Hyunjin shifts nervously. “You know what, I have a better idea.” He heaves Felix off of the floor, somehow manhandling his half-cooperating body into a standing position. Then he draws Felix into another hug, just as fierce as an hour ago in the bathroom. “You’re going to be okay,” Hyunjin says, as genuine and unchecked as the way he smiles. He’s Hyunjin and Hyunjin never hides from the beating, bleeding heart of a problem.

 

“Is hugging your ‘better idea,’” Felix mumbles into Hyunjin’s sweater, because he’s not Hyunjin and it’s hard to stop hiding.

 

Hyunjin doesn’t answer, just grabs Felix’s hand and pulls him out of the room, down the hallway, and into the elevator.

 

 _Oh,_ Felix thinks, as Hyunjin hits the fourth floor button and he realizes where they’re going. _I’m grateful for Hyunjin._

 

 

 

With the lights off and random, awful top 40 music blaring too loud and Hyunjin’s laughter warm in his ears, his body finally moves the way he wants it to. Like his first time in the fourth floor studio, he feels freed and a little ridiculous and unexplainably giddy. There’s something childish, silly, and blissfully uncomplicated about turning off all the lights, playing music way too loudly, and simply dancing.

 

It makes Felix feel lighter than he has in days. Not the empty, rattling kind of light he’s grown all too familiar with, but the kind of light with wings.

 

 

 

 **_—_  ** **_1 year._ **

 

 

 

Felix wakes up two days before their first fansign and feels the new dorm closing in on him. Their new dorm. _His_ new dorm. He can barely breathe.

 

Seungmin’s bed is empty and already made. Jisung’s probably taking advantage of their free day to sleep in—Felix can see his foot hanging off the side of the bunk above him.

 

He shuts his eyes and tries to focus on the sounds of the members starting their day. There’s clanging from the kitchen, probably Seungmin frying eggs. Maybe Chan making coffee. Someone’s on the phone with their parents. Jeongin? Cheerful humming from the bathroom. A drawer closing in the other room. Under it all, Felix detects the faint ticking of the hallway clock.

 

Suddenly the ticking is so loud that all the other sounds fade, and Felix doesn’t know why it’s so fixating, this incessant, steady march forward. With every soft _tick_ he feels himself being led closer to the edge of a cliff.

 

Everyone has been on a high since the live broadcast finale, caught up in a whirlwind of recording and choreography and filming. There has been no time to think. Felix doesn’t know why this is happening now, this morning ** _—_** it’s like opening your eyes and realizing you’re already neck-deep in quicksand. You thought you were on solid ground. No, you thought you were in the _clouds._

 

He needs to call his mother. He should text his sisters. He needs to work on his rap in Yayaya. He wants to talk to his friends. He needs to thank Chan. He misses Sydney. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to be until he can go home. He doesn’t know if he’s going to be fine speaking Korean at a fansign. He doesn’t know if people will like him. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to leave behind rowdy Dunkin Donuts runs between vocal lessons and dance practice, late night convenience store ramen with whoever also can’t sleep, dance battles in the dark.

 

He’s spent so much time looking at the horizon that he hadn’t really realized how much he would be leaving behind at the start line. Felix is seventeen and overwhelmed and tired and happy and scared and excited and sad and unsure. He had never known that he could feel all those things at once.

 

His skin won’t stop prickling like it wants to be shed, and shit, Felix can’t be alone right now. He’s on autopilot as he finds himself in Hyunjin’s room, standing over the other boy who’s still lying in bed, half-awake and scrolling through his phone.

 

“Hey. Come to the store with me?” He nudges Hyunjin’s shoulder and takes a small comfort in how steady his voice is.

 

Something must show on Felix’s face because Hyunjin simply nods and pulls on some proper clothes. Hyunjin calls out a goodbye and a short explanation to whoever might be awake and can pass on the message if the others ask about them later, then they’re out the door.

 

As they walk, it’s obvious that Hyunjin’s making an effort to distract him. They talk about random, trivial things all the way to the convenience store, and Felix doesn’t know if he’s grateful that Hyunjin knows him so well or if this ** _—_** whatever  _this_ is ** _—_** is a whole other thing Felix is too overwhelmed to deal with right now. Because it’s been a year, they’re _debuting_ soon, and everything’s different except the stupid way Hyunjin still makes his heart miss a beat. He doesn’t know if now, he can simply explain Hyunjin away like he did so many months ago.

 

 

 

Felix is staring at a row of korepab snacks in aisle four when he can’t keep it in anymore. “I’m going to sound ungrateful as fuck and this is really stupid, but ** _—_** ” He crinkles a bag of snacks between his hands, trying to find the words.

 

Hyunjin hums, patient and encouraging and not moving from where he is three meters away, in front of the ppushu ppushu. He’s giving Felix space to think, to retreat if he wants to.

 

Felix’s heart aches. “I kind of want to go back. I don’t want to lose this,” he whispers. “It’s not like ** _—_** it’s not like I suddenly have cold feet or something, no, I’ve been running towards this for so long, but suddenly I’m? I don’t want to not have... all this anymore.” He gestures vaguely at the snacks. At the store in general. At Hyunjin.

 

He sounds ridiculous but Hyunjin, standing closer now, looks thoughtful. Like he’s actually taking Felix seriously.

 

“Dance classes, vocal lessons, preparing for the showcase, monthly evaluations. Teacher Choi yelling at me. Teacher Suh yelling at you. I think I’m going to miss all of that.” Felix cracks a wry, sad smile. His head feels clearer. “And the fourth floor. Our stupid dance parties in the dark. I miss it already.”

 

“Yeah?” Hyunjin’s smiling now. “Me too.”

 

“We haven’t been in so long.” It turns out that the end, however sudden it feels, is a slow, creeping thing.

 

Hyunjin’s grin grows, spreading across his whole face, and suddenly he grabs Felix’s snacks out of his hands and puts them back on the shelf. “Let’s go.”

 

“What?”

 

“Let’s do it. Come on, it’s been forever and we’re not going to get a free day like this for a while.” Hyunjin has that childish, conspiratorial look again, and it’s been a year but Felix would still follow that look anywhere.

 

 

 

The studio is exactly the same as Felix remembers. Big, empty, a little stale and unremarkable without thirty teenagers yelling and laughing and dancing in it.

 

Hyunjin latches onto Felix’s hand, as if to not lose him, before switching off the lights. “We have to do this the proper way, right?” Felix can hear the smile in his voice.

 

They probably look all kinds of ridiculous, grinning at each other in the dark, but Felix already feels it, the strange mix of adrenaline and something else that this room always sends through his veins. It’s enough.

 

“I’m scared.” His voice is too loud in the dark room but that’s okay. “I’m so scared, Hyunjin.”

 

“I know, me too.” Then Hyunjin’s drawing him into his arms and his breath is warm on Felix’s ear. “I’m scared too."

 

 

 

They’re sitting on the floor across from each other, just close enough to be able to map out each other’s features in the dark. Between them, Hyunjin still has Felix’s hand clasped in his. Felix doesn’t know how long they’ve been talking in here.

 

“Should we... like, dance?” Hyunjin asks at some point, making a face.

 

It hits both of them at the same time how ridiculous the situation is. In seconds, they’re cracking up, laughing uncontrollably. What are they doing, sitting on the studio floor in the dark, just talking?

 

Felix’s free hand finds Hyunjin’s knee in the dark, and he lets the contact, like their linked hands, center him. Hyunjin’s still giggling, wrinkles by his eyes and nose scrunched up and lips stretched into a wide smile, and Felix is so gone for this beautiful boy who’s been by his side since day one. He takes a deep breath, lungs filling with stale studio air and something like courage. “Actually, I want to say something.”

 

Hyunjin leans in and tilts his head the way he always does when someone talks to him. It’s just another one of the small things that are uniquely _Hyunjin_ , and really Felix should be used to it by now; his heart shouldn’t stutter like this.

 

Breathe in, out. Let the dark mute all the noise and erase everything but the closest, most important details. Focus on the gentle curve of Hyunjin’s smile and the solidness of his knee under your palm. Felix feels strangely calm when he opens his mouth and starts. “I never really thanked you. For... everything, I guess. The first day. The first weeks. Everything after that. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you—I wouldn’t be here right now, I think.” His Korean is halting and awkward, but he pushes on. He doesn’t want to fall back on English, not now. “I guess what I want to say is, thanks for not letting me try to do all this alone. Thanks for being a really, really good friend.” He’s trying to find Korean words for something he’s not sure he even knows how to say in English—it’s sloppy, he stutters, he mispronounces a few words.

 

It’s not everything, but it’s enough. Hyunjin looks a little dumbstruck, eyes wide and lips parted. Felix can’t tell much else in the dark.

 

“There’s ** _—_** there’s one more thing,” Felix blurts before Hyunjin can say anything.

 

Hyunjin closes his mouth. The ensuing silence is empty like the air is holding its breath. Felix fidgets. They’re sitting so close their knees are touching, but it feels like suddenly there are mountains to cross, a canyon to fill, an ocean to drain. Felix is floundering, unsure and anxious and shit, what if he’s going to fuck this all up?

 

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t miss the way Hyunjin’s eyes follow the movement.

 

_You’re so beautiful and I really want to kiss you._

 

_You smile with your entire face and that’s my favorite fucking thing._

 

_I think I might be in love with you._

 

No, no, no. Hyunjin’s staring at him, expectant and patient and something else. Felix looks away, stares at the rip in his jeans like it might put the words he needs to say into his mouth. _Come on, just say it._

 

In the end, he doesn’t need to.

 

“Hey.” Hyunjin taps the back of his hand. One, two, three times, until Felix’s eyes focus on his. Hyunjin is silent for a long moment, like he’s trying to figure something out. Then, with two fingers over Felix’s pulse on his wrist, he leans in so close that when he exhales, Felix feels warm air move over his lips. “Oh," Hyunjin breathes, "Your heartbeat sped up.” The smile that spreads its way across his face is just little bit smug, like he’s found the answer he was looking for.

 

“Hey,” he says again, and this time he sounds more sure. “Can I kiss you?”

  
Even now, Hyunjin has a way of making all of Felix’s insurmountable worries feel suddenly conquerable. Suddenly, there’s no longer anything complicated about the few heady centimeters between their lips. It’s easy as anything for Felix to close the gap and meet Hyunjin in the middle.

 

Hyunjin kisses like maybe, just maybe, he’s been waiting a long time for this too. Felix loves the way his lips are a little chapped but warm and soft, loves the way Hyunjin’s hands trace the line of his jaw and tug him closer until Felix is climbing onto his lap. He’s dizzy, Hyunjin’s taste sweet on his tongue and Hyunjin’s hands warm on his thighs. When Felix pulls away for air, Hyunjin follows, and his big, crinkly smile is only a few breathtaking millimeters away from Felix’s own dazed grin.

 

“I really like you,” Felix whispers, in English because his brain is an useless puddle of goo right now. “Kiss me again.”

 

And Hyunjin does, but not before he says, smile brushing against Felix’s, “I’ve liked you since the first day when the teacher said go right and your cute ass went left.”

 

Felix laughs until his mouth is too busy doing other things. He knows with a certainty he hasn’t felt in a long, long time, that he’s going to be okay. Better than okay.

 

 

 

There is something honest about the dark that makes it easier to be brave. Moonlight and park lamps and Sydney summer humidity. All their crazy dreams crackling in the stale studio air and music so loud everyone can feel it in the soles of their feet and Felix’s body learning how to move again. Now, Hyunjin’s hair tangled between his fingers and his knees bracketing Hyunjin’s hips and their chests pressed so close it’s like their two hearts beat in one ribcage.

 

This, this is what getting a little braver feels like.

**Author's Note:**

> sending u all the love for actually getting through 7k of my rambling <3 yell at me about anything on [twitter](https://twitter.com/straylixed) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/straylixed)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [hold my bones, until i stitch myself back together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15773205) by [jarofactonbell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofactonbell/pseuds/jarofactonbell)




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